Provocation
by wordsmithsonian
Summary: A slice of married life for young Ron and Hermione. post DH. Rated for language as it is about Ron, after all, and a love scene.
1. Chapter 1

**All of the characters of the Harry Potter series and the world which they inhabit belong to J. K. Rowling, and certainly not me.**

**This is my first fic! The rating is for language and a love scene in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it!**

The afternoon proved a bit warmer than usual for autumn. Hermione stretched and removed her jacket, folding it precisely and laying it carefully across the arm of the chair. It was an old and familiar seat, rather overstuffed but only slightly shabby, and she had been firmly ensconced within for more than an hour. She settled back down, tucking her legs beneath her and opening her book to the exact passage she had been reading.

She tried to immerse herself within the text but something was moving out of the corner of her eye, irritatingly repetitive and insistent. She resolved to ignore it and redoubled her efforts to finish the chapter. The movement grew more frequent and was soon accompanied by tapping. Hermione continued to ignore it, although she was now unable to attend the rather dense text properly and would have to reread that last passage in order to glean the correct context for the following paragraph. She sternly set herself to doing just that.

The tapping increased in volume and insistency, jarring her concentration and finally raising her head from the depths of magical history. She lost no time in locating the source of the tapping, which appeared to be a rather dirty leather boot with frayed laces of indeterminate color. The boot was attached to the lanky young man sprawled along the couch across from her. Its twin, equally dirty and with laces surprisingly intact, though untied, was resting atop a stack of books piled haphazardly across the coffee table.

Ron sat with one arm flung across the back of the couch; his other arm occupied with propping his chin up. His chin appeared to need the support, being weighed down with a prominently pouting lower lip. When he noticed that Hermione had lifted her head, he stretched out his long limbs in every direction with a great sigh.

"C'mon Hermione, you've been reading for _hours_!" He flopped back onto the couch, once again resting one foot on the pile of books, sending a few more precariously perched tomes tumbling to the floor.

Hermione refrained from protesting that it had not in fact been hours, but a mere 78 minutes of reading. She chose to concentrate on what appeared to be the larger issue.

"I believe that I have asked you rather plainly, Ronald, to cease propping your feet on the furniture."

Ron leveled impossibly blue eyes on the woman who he often thought of as the most maddening creature in the universe.

"Well, it's my flat too, in't it? I expect that I can put my feet wherever I bloody like."

He leaned back against the couch and crossed his arms, satisfied with his argument. Hermione shut her book with a rather dusty sounding smack and uncurled herself from the chair. Her feet, clad only in pristinely white socks, emerged to dangle a few inches off of the floor. She impatiently pushed back a lock of curly brown hair to glare at her adversary.

"While it is true that we share the space, I believe that we agreed upon some rules for living together."

Ron exhaled loudly in disgust. "Rules! You make a bloody religion out of rules, Hermione."

She dropped the book onto the coffee table, leaning forward in her chair until her toes touched the wooden boards of the floor. Her hair, hopelessly disordered on her best days, insisted on obscuring her vision until she indignantly blew it from her face.

"Your language could use some improvement as well. I have had quite enough of your infantile cursing and-"

Ron slashed his hand through the air. "I'm sick of your rules, you're not my Mum, and I'll use any fucking language that I bloody well please!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the interruption and her eyebrows, usually gently arched, crashed down furiously at his cursing.

"I would simply enjoy having a _decent_ conversation with you without it deteriorating into gutter speak! You can't seem to string a simple sentence together without resorting to foul language. Honestly, Ronald, it is a detestable habit!"

He scoffed loudly and leveled eyes slitted with anger at her, the blue glinting like hidden jewels beneath heavy lids. He watched her steadily as he slowly lifted his other boot to thump solidly onto the table, sending a few more books tumbling. Hermione let out a shrill squeak of outrage, bristling like a cat. She felt her hair stand out in all directions. Her soft brown eyes became so overwhelmed by angry brows that they seemed ready to disappear entirely. She was no longer bothered by wayward locks of hair, as her vision was suddenly clouded by a red haze. She could barely focus as Ron's lips turned upward in a wide smirk.

Hermione concentrated on her breathing for a moment, reviewing arithmancy problems in her head in order of increasing difficulty until her vision returned to normal. Ron continued to smirk, his act of complacency spurring her fury to new heights.

He actually thought she looked rather adorable when she was angry, even if she retained the ability to scare him sometimes, though he would never admit such. There was something about her flashing eyes and impassioned reaction that drew him to her, making him do things sometimes just to provoke a response. After all of their years together, he knew exactly how to push her buttons and bring her to a boil in moments.

He struggled to maintain a suitably smug expression as she rose to her feet, stunning him with the full force of her furious beauty. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted softly with every exhalation. The soft grey legs of her knit pants bounced lightly as they rolled to the floor, covering all but the tips of her toes. Ron swallowed hard as he noticed the way the thin fabric of her faded gold Gryffindor tee shirt pressed lovingly against her breasts with every fuming breath.

He barely managed to keep himself from flinching as she advanced on him, rounding the coffee table to stand parallel to his splayed legs. He was suddenly and immensely grateful that she had left her wand on the kitchen counter. She smiled at him and his stomach clenched in fear. Things never went well for him when she smiled like that, her soft lips pulled back in more of a grimace than an expression of mirth. She placed one hand on her hip and raised the other to tap her index finger against her chin.

"Do you know what I think, Ronald?" She tilted her head to the side as if expecting a response. His mouth went dry as she dragged her index finger up to trace her lower lip. She dropped her hand but he remained mesmerized by her perfect mouth. Hermione grew impatient with his lack of response. He was simply sitting like a lump and staring at her blankly. She fisted both hands, planting them firmly on her hips as she bumped against one of his denim clad knees.

"Hey! I am speaking to you!" She felt a rush of satisfaction as his eyes snapped to hers, a deep blush creeping up his neck and setting his ears aflame. So she was correct in her assessment of the situation. It seemed that Ron was not receiving as much attention as he would like. She should have been even more incensed by his childish ploy, but she felt herself softening to him as she always did. They had an entire afternoon to themselves and she had ignored him until now. She abruptly decided to change tactics.

Hermione trailed her left hand from the top of Ron's boot to his thigh, pausing to swirl her fingers around his kneecap. She nearly giggled when he coughed and shifted nervously as her hand crept higher up his thigh. Ron had never been adept at hiding his emotions. She drew lazy patterns through his jeans.

"As I was saying, I think that perhaps you do not actually have an issue with our agreed upon rules for cohabitation. I think that perhaps you are simply attempting to provoke me in order to garner my attention."

She paused to drag a fingernail from the crease of his knee up his inseam until she felt his leg tense and his breath falter. She looked up to find that he was staring at her as if entranced, his entire face so red that his ears were nearly glowing. He probably didn't realize that he was tightly gripping the fabric of the couch with both fists, as though he were keeping it from floating away.

Ron knew that she was speaking to him, he could tell by the rhythmic motion of her lips, but he could not hear her over the buzzing in his ears. His insides flipped over whenever she would reach her hand nearly to the source of his agony, only to pull away again. She had to know that she was torturing him, a man could only endure so much and he had thought them well past teasing at this point in their relationship. Perhaps he had pushed her a little too far.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for reading, and thanks to those who reviewed! I'm really enjoying my first fic, and I'm sure there will be more to come. This is the last chapter for this story, I hope you enjoy it!_

_I still don't own anything or anyone in the world of Harry Potter, more's the pity.  
_

* * *

Hermione was thoroughly enjoying herself as she tortured her husband. He was beginning to develop a small twitch in his left foot whenever she neared his zipper with her wandering fingers. His face had clearly lost the battle with his blush and had surrendered itself up entirely to a violent shade of pink. His fists were slowly gathering up huge expanses of cushion. His lopsided smirk had melted from his face as his jaw dropped slightly and he nervously licked his lips. All signs pointed to Ron's imminent surrender.

Ron was starting to regret his pathetic bid for her attention. He simply couldn't help himself sometimes, when she ignored him to stare at musty old pages all bloody day. He could not stand for her to forget his presence, something deep inside the hidden places of his heart longed for her to be as constantly aware of him as he was of her.

He was always aware of each time Hermione turned a page with her fingers arched just so, or licked her lips and brought a lock of soft brown hair to her mouth, or – well, he might as well admit that he was completely mad for her.

Her evil smile seemed locked into place as she grew bolder and began to stroke the length of his body from neck to ankle, with a few maddening pauses in between. She managed to inflame him entirely while avoiding any direct sexual contact. He began to seriously consider promising never to disrespect the furniture again and whatever else she required of him. Begging for mercy was also looking more and more appealing.

She stopped suddenly, letting her hand drop from his knee to rest at her side. She looked at him expectantly. Ron could only stare up at her, slowly releasing his hold on the sofa cushions, which Hermione feared may never return to their original shape.

She crossed her arms, making Ron frown as she obscured his view of her chest. She arched one brow.

"Well?"

Ron blinked, trying desperately to remember whether she had asked him a question. He didn't think she had, but he had not really been listening, a fact he knew better than to admit to her. He shifted in his seat as she rolled her eyes and looked pointedly from his boots on the table and back to his face. Maybe she was…oh!

Ron scrambled upright, shooting his long legs out in opposite directions in his haste to remove them from the furniture, catching Hermione in the shin. She hissed and bent forward to rub at the offended limb.

"Oh bugger! Sorry 'bout that Hermione." Ron prepared himself for a marathon of apologies but lost his train of thought as he realized that at this angle he could see down to Hermione's navel as her shirt gaped away from her body. And, as lovely as her navel was, he had a clear view of even more interesting parts of her body. His arousal returned in full force, tying his tongue and making his palms itch to touch her. Actually…

Hermione jumped as Ron scooted closer to her and put his hands firmly on her hips, turning her to face him directly. Her shin still smarted and she was reconsidering her decision to forgive him his childishness, but then she looked into his eyes and forgot why she had been angry in the first place.

She had never told him, but Ron's eyes grew darker when they made love, the azure blue deepening to sapphire. Desire pooled low in her body as she fell into his eyes, so serious and earnest in his beautiful face. She leaned forward with the help of his urging hands and lightly touched her lips to his.

Ron was lost instantly, completely consumed by the feel of her against him, the damp softness of her lips, the smell of her hair as it tickled his nose. She brought one hand up to caress his jaw as she braced the other on his shoulder and whispered his name. He moaned softly, loving the sound of his name on her lips. His hands moved of their own accord, sliding around to cup her bottom and pulling her forward into his lap. She pushed away for a moment to adjust her legs to bend at either side of his, straddling him. He grinned at her cooperation.

Hermione surrendered to the inevitable and attacked the buttons of his flannel shirt, kissing his neck and jaw in a frenzied pattern. Ron buried his face in her hair, chuckling softly at her haste.

"I should disrespect the bloody furniture more often if this is where it gets me!"

He choked on his next words as she slid her hands beneath his undershirt, dragging her nails softly along his stomach. His hands squeezed her bum convulsively before sliding around to pull her shirt over her head. He sucked in his breath at the sight; Hermione never wore a bra when they were lounging about the house. She looked magnificent, bare breasted with her hair flying out in all directions, her eyes burning into his.

She plucked at the ribbed fabric of his undershirt. "Off."

Ron frantically removed his shirt; only getting one arm tangled in the process before proceeding to rip his undershirt over his head and grin at her in triumph. She returned his smile with a small one of her own before dipping forward to lick at his collarbones.

Ron's hips bucked against her as she flicked her tongue over one flat pink nipple. She was disoriented for a moment as he threw her onto her back and she found herself staring at the ceiling. The plain white surface was soon replaced with Ron's gorgeous face, flushed pink and intent on her. She thrilled at the feel of his skin against hers as he pressed his long body into her smaller one, pinning her to the sofa. Ron loved the feel of her beneath him, so incredibly soft and warm.

Her hands ran over his back, creeping down to squeeze his perfect bottom and snaking between their bodies to fumble at his belt buckle. He mashed his lips against hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth to mimic the act of love. His body surged against her as she sucked his tongue, returning the kiss with just as much force. Her hands fell away as she focused on his mouth.

Ron growled and grabbed one of her hands, pushing it back against his belt. He pressed his face into her neck.

"No. No more teasing, love, I can't take it."

Hermione made quick work of his belt and zipper, struggling to push his denim trousers past his hips. He pulled back and began to explore her torso with his mouth, grazing his teeth against her collarbones and licking a path between her breasts.

Hermione felt something clench in her chest as he looked up at her through a fringe of golden lashes. He turned his head and latched onto the rosy peak of one breast, laving her with his tongue. She arched her back as the wet heat of his mouth made her press her thighs together. He divided his attention between each breast equally. He had once told her that he did not want one to be jealous of the other. She pushed her hands through the vibrant silk of his hair, pulling lightly until he raised his head.

She licked her lips, trying to catch her breath. "Now."

Ron started to ask if she was sure and then thought better of it, instead stealing a hand beneath the elastic waistband of her soft knit trousers to see for himself. He caught his breath as he discovered that she wasn't wearing knickers. He sank his fingers into the wet heat of her and pressed tiny kisses over her stomach.

"Love you. So much." His ability to form complete sentences was impaired by the intense desire clouding his brain. He hooked his thumbs into her waistband as he sat up and quickly divested her of the garment, leaving her in only her little white socks. She looked adorable.

Hermione blushed and stripped off her socks, feeling completely ridiculous lying there in them. Ron stood and pushed his trousers down his legs, taking his boxers with them. Hermione giggled at the creative cursing that ensued as he caught them on his boots and had to sit again to remove his clothing from the feet up. When he was finally as nude as she, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to sit in his lap, kissing her neck.

"Should we move this to the bedroom?" He sucked her earlobe into his mouth as he spoke, earning a purr of delight.

She ran her hands over the breadth of his shoulders, loving the artful placement of freckles on porcelain skin. "No, I don't think so."

Ron froze in horror. She couldn't mean... now that was just cruel. Was she still punishing him for putting his feet on the table?

Hermione laughed out loud at the look of acute distress on Ron's face. She kissed his brow, smoothing the furrows that had gathered there.

"I mean that we should continue here."

Ron's breath released in a whoosh of relief as he pressed her back into the cushions, only to be confused again as she pushed back against him, struggling to sit up.

"No, no, not _here_" She looked at him and pointed to the coffee table, still covered in books. "_there_."

Ron stared at her for a silent moment and then sprung into action, falling to his knees in front of the table, pulling her down with him as he kissed her frantically, tangling his hands in her hair. He tried to lean her back against the table, but the books were in the way.

Ron shoved the piles of books to the floor, sending a few lighter volumes flying against the wall. He paused, breathing heavily, to stare at her with wide eyes.

"Are you sure 'bout this, love? I know how you feel about the furniture…"

Hermione returned his stare with something fierce and wonderful in her own brown eyes.

"Screw the bloody furniture, Ron!"

A wide grin crept across his face as he turned her gently and pressed her front against the coffee table. He leaned forward so they were touching chest to back and whispered in her ear.

"I'm shocked at you, Ms. Granger!"

She pressed her hips back against his erection, causing him to suck in his breath sharply.

"I believe that's Mrs. Weasley to you, Ronald."

He closed his eyes against an embarrassing swell of emotion and rubbed his face in the soft and wild mass of her hair. His voice grew rough and low with love and desire.

"Yeah, it is."

He ran his hands slowly up her sides, moving forward across her ribs to cup her breasts and squeeze lightly. She emitted a soft mewling sound and his heart felt ready to leap from his chest. Hermione began to grow impatient. She felt a great welling of _something_ pressing against the inside of her skin. He felt so perfect against her, all contrasting textures of soft and rough skin, but he was taking too long. He took her chin in one hand and turned her face for a kiss, tracing her lips with his tongue in that way he knew drove her mad. His voice was so rough that he had to clear his throat before speaking.

"Tell me what you want, 'Mione"

He nudged her slightly with his hips, unable to control himself. Hermione smiled softly and pushed back. She could not decide whether it was exasperating or adorable that he still felt the need to ask her permission. His arms trembled lightly against her shoulders as he leaned his weight forward, his hot breath burning along her neck. He rubbed his face roughly against her hair, repeating her name in soft desperation. She decided that it was completely adorable, as were most exasperating things he did.

"I want you to stop stalling, Ron. I swear, if you are not inside me within the next-"

But he was already pressing into her gently and relentlessly, sliding slowly forward until his hipbones rested against her bottom. Her breathing became ragged and he appeared to have stopped breathing entirely. He stroked her arm with one hand and clenched the other into a fist, pushing against the table. She let out a sharp cry as he pressed even deeper inside her, where she thought that surely there was no more room. His breath rushed out harshly as he realized that he had been holding it since the moment he had touched the entrance to her body. He leaned down, pressing a line of soft kisses from the base of her fragrant neck to her hairline, where tiny soft curls clung to damp skin. He breathed deeply, fully aware that he had grown completely addicted to her unique scent. His lips moved in a caress against her skin as he spoke.

"Do you want me to -"

She pushed back sharply, bracing her hands next to his on the table.

"Yes, yes, just hurry!"

He groaned at her urgency, feeling a similarly fierce need within himself. He began to move in her, their disparate heights causing her knees to leave the floor with each inward thrust. She let out a soft cry with every stroke, sparking the fires within him to the point of madness. He heard himself murmuring nonsense words in her ear, broken verses of love and devotion. Their rhythm grew stronger and faster and Ron began to feel himself losing control before she was ready. He used one hand to brace himself, covering one of her tiny hands completely. He pushed the first two fingers of his other hand insistently into her mouth, groaning loudly as she obediently suckled them.

Hermione was cast adrift in a violent sea of emotions and senses. His body covered hers in a way that could only be described as perfect. She was attuned to his every breath; she reveled in each tiny grunt and moan that escaped him. He said things to her, things that were for her ears only. Words of love for her heart only. She gasped as he touched her gently with fingers wet from her lips. He swirled them at the joining of their bodies in counterpoint to his thrusts. She smiled softly; it had taken him nearly a year of practice to learn that trick. The smile faded from her face as the feelings within her grew in urgency.

She shut her eyes tightly and screamed his name as the world shattered around her. Ron's motions grew frantic as he felt her clench around him, sending him over the edge. He choked on her name as he flowed into her, his entire body shaking violently.

They collapsed onto the table, resting until Hermione grumbled at the discomfort. Ron stood on unsteady legs and scooped her up to carry her to the bedroom, knocking over a potted plant and bumping into two walls and a doorframe in the process. Hermione did not complain, but instead giggled as he cursed at each obstacle.

When they finally reached their destination, Ron laid her gently on the bed before sprawling beside her in exhaustion. Hermione turned on her side, burrowing into his warmth and resting her head on his chest. Ron traced his fingers lazily along her spine.

"D'we really have to go to dinner with Harry and Ginny?"

Hermione let out a surprised laugh. "Of course we do darling, we planned it days ago."

Ron humphed and twirled one of her curls around his finger. Hermione groaned inwardly as she imagined what her hair looked like. It would take her ages to get it properly managed for dinner. She looked up at her husband, laughing again at the petulant look on his face.

"How about this? If you behave yourself at dinner then I will _personally_ serve you your favorite dessert when we get home."

Ron looked at her, his eyes lighting up as he realized that she was not referring to treacle tart. He grinned widely and pushed a lock of hair from her face, revealing her laughing brown eyes.

"That sounds bloody brilliant."

His eyes slowly drooped shut as they cuddled, settling in for a nap before dinner. They needed to save their energy for dessert.


End file.
